Have Faith And Believe In Yourself….

I would like to start this blog off by stating, as of 9.25 am this morning, I would like to humbly tell you that I have just handed in my last assignment for the semester.  I can say that I am relieved as I have finished 2 mid-semester exams, I have sat down and spent close to 60 hours doing 5 assignments and 20 hours on a group presentation.  This has resulted in me handing in these assignments, presenting them and sitting 2 hours for exams.  All I can say: thank the Lord for coffee, time in the day and dedication. With that, enjoy the blog.
 

Dearest Reader,

I am currently sitting in R block at university next to a group that is studying and a Christian group

who meet weekly to discuss their beliefs is sitting next to me.  Not that I don’t mind a tall because at the moment, I am feeling love from both groups on either side of me.  As I know God is watching over me and the journey process I am undertaking of writing, editing and handing in assignments.  

Because without my belief in graduating and successfully walking of university knowing that by the end of the year, I am going to a Registered Nurse is more than fueling my self drive and motivation levels.  If only I could put this into my workout regime but I consider taking the steps at university as a way of exercising.  With that thought, hello buns of steel and sculpted thighs rather than what I think I see.   As for the other group, they are encouraging me to be the strange girl with a scarf around her head, writing and a ‘fuck off’ sign posted above her head.  Or it could be the fact that I possibly have the attitude of Gretchen from Mean Girls and the sign above said head states, ‘you can’t sit with us’.

 
Wait…….. And I can tell you that nothing has changed within the last few minutes as someone has just eyed my table and then walked straight past me. 
 

Scarlett: 1 and Stranger: 0.

Or should it be the either way around with Scarlett: 0 and Stranger: 1?

Either way, we both win.
Harry Potter Moment…
As to this blog post sitting on your screen and your little eyes reading what I am saying, I originally started writing this back a few weeks ago.  I started writing this well before I skipped town and headed down to the coast for a little holiday away from everything that was happening in Brisbane and attending Ducky’s birthday.  Where a fantastic series of photos were captured over a period of 24 hours, which now make me sit here and shake my head as I can never get a serious photo at all.  Particularly when it comes to asking Pablo nicely for a photo and this is the end result of what I get presented with.
 
Yes, you can see me asking or rather pleading him to take a ‘nice photo’ to show Lois when I see her next.  As a result, I am still waiting to see what a ‘nice picture’ is when it comes to Pablo and I as he can never keep a straight face nor put down his middle finger.  Now this has been taken from The Godfather as he never particularly liked having his photo taken and would often flash the photographer the finger.  And now has become a long standing action we do in a way to show that he is still around us.
 
I have just realised that with this photo of us being animated, it brings a sense of Harry Potter moment.  As the photos in the newspaper moved and this is kind of what it reminds me.  All I can say is: call me Harry Potter.
 
Now this blog post has been sitting in my ‘blog’ folder on my computer as I flitted in between assignments, mid-semester exams, more assignments, group presentation and other blog posts that I have got going on.  The interesting thing about this is that I found time to write a few sentences every now and then when I was coming home, on the train while having people peer over my shoulder at what I was writing/reading.  As a result, I have had a few people burst out into laughter at what I have written because I have caught them peering over my shoulder.
 

Something that can annoy me beyond doubt and yet at the same time, I leave the train with a perk in my step at knowing that I have essentially made someone laugh.  Guaranteed most of us laugh on a daily basis, in my case more than once or twice a day, but just being there to witness it makes me feel amazing.   Now for this blog post to be randomly created, it just so happened while I was on the train coming home like most posts of late and I was staring at my pharmacology notes like a 5 year old had taken notes for me.

However instead of using words that an adult can understand and interpret, my writings resembled 

something of a hieroglyphic that lines the walls of The Pyramids in Egypt.  There were various wriggly, squiggly words, arrows, different colours and a few ‘what the fuck?’ thrown around the page.  Can officially say that when it comes to studying for my final exam for this subject, if I am confused already than I would hate to see how fucked up I am going to be when I actually sit down for it.  Yeap, not looking forward to it at all and this is not the doubt talking but rather: I fucking hate Sheila talk.

Now can you tell me whether or not the word study is a verb or noun and what is the meaning of it?  Don’t know or you are simply to ‘busy’ to Google it because we all know that Google is our best friend and will eventually replace textbooks, people and jobs.  Hopefully that will be after I do but beforehand that happens, I can tell you whether or not study is a verb or noun.  And because I am amazing, I can provide you a definition as well.

 Study: verb.

Devote time and attention to gain knowledge of an academic subject especially by all means of books.

This only counts for those studying and/or experiencing a mid-life crisis on a daily basis.  Having told you what the dictionary, Oxford Dictionary, while being technically and politically correct deemed as study; I shall inform you as to what I consider study to be really defined as.  This is out stepping my blogging side of life, but rather coming from a university student and someone in general who spends what seems most of her life studying.  This right here and right now is the correct term of ‘stuDYING, part two’.

 

Study: verb

Where one repeatedly bangs their head on a desk.  Or if one is feeling particularly brave (stupid) and needs some fun (punishment) to be brought into their life; one must simply gather a textbook.  Allow textbook to be braced into hands with death defying grip and allow for gravity to bring textbook down onto head. Repeat until actions have been proven otherwise and the joy one once held within their heart, has been replaced with images of failing.

I believe this is more along the line of what study should be defined as in the dictionary.

Especially when it comes to mid-semester exams, final semester exams and assignments that come drifting around the corner in their hot supped car that boasts 14 inch rims.  Double wham of Nos, bass system that can rival an orchestra performing and can effectively waken the dead. 

All the while spending some/most of my time falling in a heap in the corner of library or while waiting for tutorials, using my worth share of Kleenex tissues.  If you do happen to come on campus in the hopes of seeking me out, you can find me crying into a textbook, writing a blog post genuinely from being bored out of my head waiting for classes to begin/end or for the witching hour to finish.  Or I am in the corner of the library on level 5-6 (great if it there is a fire as I am going to be burnt alive!), sleeping with a sly book placed over my face.

As this will never make those walking past suspicious at all of me sleeping, because like they say, osmosis can help those in desperate times.  And besides, what uni student doesn’t enjoy their sleep and would love to spend eight hours a day, constantly studying?  Oh I know, I know.

Yes?…..
 
Pick me! Pick me!
 
The answer is: me
 
However I have learnt my lessons of spending all hours of the day and night constantly studying. 
This logic thinking only seemed to occur when I spent most…all of my first year of university recovering either in bed or dragging my sorry arse of my death bed to attend work.  Not that it was much of a recovery for me considering I worked nearly week but during those weeks, I spent most of it either sleeping, stressing over bullshit, crying hysterically into my pillow, my ex-partner’s shoulder while stroking his hair/beard or on Loi’s shoulder, as she patted me on the back.  Let’s just say that there is nothing wrong with crying on your Mother’s shoulder, wiping your tear smudged face on her shoulder and then walking off.
 
Thanks and love ya Lois.
 
Instead this semester I decided that I would limit myself to work certain hours during the days that I wasn’t on campus.  Which essentially I began studying and doing lectures from 10am in the morning to roughly about 5pm and after that, it was ‘me’ time.  That was until assignments made their way out of the wood work and I found myself working on them for at least 12 hours a day but at least I managed to get them done early.  I have also learnt from my mistakes but yet still find myself not understanding what the hell my pharmacology lecturer is still talking about.  Suspect that after twelve weeks of listening to her cough filled lectures and boring arse tutorials that I will never understand what is being discussed. 
 
For example the tutorial that I had a couple of weeks ago, were I spent the last two days slaving away, reading crap that would make the average person and chimp scratch their head in confusion.   The grammar Nazis’ have a major meltdown at the grammatical errors and sentence structure, essentially causing them to have a little ‘holiday’ in a mental facility.  Finally: the students who undertake this course and wonder as to why they have to do it; why they enlisted into the subject and what the overall goal is at the end of the duration of thirteen weeks.
 
And let me tell you what that goal is us pharmacology students, wish and hope, for at the end of the

Pharmacology notes for wks 7-13 anyone?

thirteen week duration of pure torture.  Seeing your results for having to sit an exam that is purely based upon a God like complexion, an assignment that filled with bullshit that now makes you think ‘what the fuck did I actually fucking write?’.  All the while, quoting the e-books that were plagiarized….sorry, shortened from the actual textbook and tutorials, where you spend most of your time talking about what you plan on doing on the weekend, who kissed who on Geordie Shore.  And why Chloe is now the strangest one out of the gang when we originally thought it was Jay for waxing his eyebrows.

 
As for these results that I am talking about, some delightful little birdy has confirmed our secret dread of ‘have I passed/failed? Either way, I am getting pissed’.  You hold your breath while hovering the mouse over the link all the while; in my case I psych myself into believe that I haven’t passed and that I am going to spend another semester in hell.   This is when I finally smack myself out of stupid land with a stern, hard physical smack to my upper thigh and grab my balls from my back pocket and stick them on my chest and woman-the-fuck-up.  Because no one likes a little, sorry that’s Miss Bitch to you and I hit that link like I am hitting on a guy at a bar.
 
Jack pot!
 
You may not have gotten the guy’s number from the bar, turns out he was gay and in a relationship, but rather you got your results.  Congratulations! It doesn’t state ‘your fucked!’ and hello to another semester of Pharmacology or whatever the hell is your weakest subject.  In my case, we know it is my God Complexion subject otherwise known as Pharmacology that has been the death of me for the past 12 weeks of uni and I am still yet to sit this exam.  Hopefully, on the exam I won’t be asked about Sheila and her role within my university, not that I particularly give a shit as we all know: she ain’t going anywhere.
Now when I get my results in July/August, I am literally going to throw my hands up in the air like I just don’t give a fuck, propel my body forward in some motion of running out the door in the Little White House and scream (so that the neighbours can here): “ I FUCKING PASSED”.  And because I don’t do anything half arsed these days, I will no doubt burst into tears because this damn awful, fucked up semester is only the beginning of my last year of university, the torture will continue as it is going to get harder and I now have 12 months before I don a dress, heels, slap on some make up and spend 30 seconds on stage getting my graduation Bachelor Degree in Nursing.
So Fairy Godmother make sure you are available July 2016 because this serendipity daughter of yours is graduating!
Now as to the last year of my life as an university student and one that is studying in Harvard, I am prepared for what you to deliver to me.  I have my tissues, my Bollywood music, my coffee/tea, my energy of gum and a drive to fucking succeed in life.  Because I remember someone telling me on my last day of year 12, ‘You will never go anywhere.  In fact you will be a single mother to four kids and on the dole for the rest of your life’.
And all I can say is because I am somewhat of the better person in this little situation: When you stare at your reflection in the mirror, just remember where you are and where I am.  And in case you don’t remember or know, I am in university in Brisbane.  I am not married nor do I have 4 kids to three different fathers and I do not do blow jobs in the back of car to pay for my dope.
Instead, I do them behind closed doors.  Oh how I kid about what my sex life is like but seriously though, what I do and do not do in my bedroom is none of your business.
With that as I am listening to save a horse (ride a cowboy), drinks are on the house tonight, bitches!  Well technically on your liquor bar tab so therefore you are shouting for drinks.  And since we are partying and celebrating the fact you are now in heaven because my boobs are on display in my little black dress and I am in heaven because I passed my exams; keep ’em coming baby!
However before I begin that stage of life causing me to run around the house like a chicken with its head cut off and bursting into tears, there are a few things I need to take care of.  This is putting up with torture and pain because without those two vital things, the intelligence and beauty of being intelligent won’t happen down the track.  And the one thing that is keeping me back from collapsing head first into my mattress tomorrow is a little thing called: University tomorrow!
Because I have to start studying for exams and finish off some of the weeks of lectures that I haven’t been able to complete due to assignments.  With that, Dearest Reader, I have officially completed and handed in my last assignment for this semester.  And I managed to complete it by Saturday but spent yesterday fixing things up as I was paranoid it wasn’t appropriate.  Safe to say, I have absolutely no idea what I wrote because it consisted of numbers and we all know with Dyslexia by now…. We have no fucking clue about numbers.
Having said that, my final words are not from myself but rather from Red and Lois to my fellow people around the world reading this and students completing their assignments/exams:
Have faith and believe in yourself because without faith, no one will believe in you, your dreams or wishes.  Keep your chin up, look at your reflection in the mirror and remind yourself on a daily basis, why you got in the morning and what you are going to achieve for that day.  Good luck.
 
Until next time,


Cheers xo.

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